


Trigger-happy

by Elisexyz



Series: Whumptober 2019 (Timeless) [1]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Christmas Isn't Canon, F/M, Hints Of Garcy, Injury, Post-Episode: s02e10 Chinatown (Timeless), Wyatt Being A Mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-10-26 01:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20733773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: Wyatt has three choices: blame Flynn, blame himself, or blame Jessica, and only one of these is guaranteed to let him keep his sanity.Blaming Flynn it is.





	Trigger-happy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "Human Shield" prompt in the Whumptober 2019 event.  
  
It's set in a very generic post-Chinatown verse, in which Rufus has been saved and they are all back to fighting Rittenhouse like in s2.

Wyatt can still feel her pressed against him, her fingers clasping his shirt to keep him close to her chest, her hot breath against his neck and the barrel of her gun firmly set against his temple. Her hold was tight enough to hurt, her handle on the gun steady and her threats loud and confident – certainly more than enough to convince Rufus and Lucy, who were staring at them with terrified eyes –, but Wyatt was too close not to notice her racing heart or the short breaths betraying her agitation.

He wasn’t scared. Even with her gun to his head, even with Jessica spewing that he’d be her ticket back to the other Rittenhouse agents, he could only see the look on her face whenever she had a chance to kill him and chose not to.

He wasn’t scared.

Now, he is terrified.

Back to safety, surrounded by friends, the only thing that he can see is the blood on his hands and clothes, the gunshot echoing in his head and tears pushing behind his eyes.

Oddly enough, the first real rush of fear he felt was when Jessica’s hold on him went slack, she fell to the ground and the gun was no longer a problem. Flynn, fucking _Flynn_, had managed to sneak up behind them, taking the shot because that’s what he _does_.

Wyatt could blame Jessica – she was the one holding a gun to his head –, he could blame himself – he was the one who went to her once again, risked everything on yet another glimmer of hope that she might choose him this time –, or he could just spare himself the headache and blame Flynn.

Flynn who is conveniently standing right in front of him, with his very punchable face and his insufferable attitude.

Wyatt, blood roaming in his ears and nothing but Jessica’s blood in his eyes, realizes that he has thrown himself at him only when he feels Rufus pulling him back, shouting nonsense in his ear, and he sees Agent Christopher sliding in between them to push him away.

She is saying something, but Wyatt doesn’t listen. Instead, he shakes Rufus off him, launching himself forward once again, Agent Christopher the only thing preventing him - barely – from reaching Flynn.

Flynn who is just _staring_ at him, with an irritatingly blank face.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?!” Wyatt eventually shouts, as sounds come rushing back to his ears and the world seems to be spinning once again. Rufus is trying to pull him back by his shirt, Lucy is standing right next to Flynn with a look somewhere between irritation and pity on her face – she has one hand on Flynn’s arm, like she’s his damn wife offering him support –, and Agent Christopher is still in the middle, trying to glare him down. Wyatt starts feeling very cornered very fast, and it does nothing to calm him down.

They are acting like _Flynn_ is the one bleeding to death here. He isn’t.

(Not yet.)

“I was saving your life,” Flynn eventually says, calm and matter-of-fact, and Wyatt can feel a raging grimace appear on his face, his stomach twisting and turning as he takes a step forward, only to collide against Agent Christopher, who doesn’t budge.

“Did I fucking _ask_ you to?!” he growls.

“Wyatt,” Agent Christopher calls, authoritative enough that his eyes are drawn to her in spite of everything. “You would have done the same, and you know it,” she says, and it sounds like one hell of an accusation, because the last thing that Wyatt wants right now is to be compared to Flynn the terrorist – that’s what he is, even if everyone seems to have conveniently forgotten it; _how_ is beyond him, given that he has just proved it once again.

He turns his attention back to Flynn. “She wasn’t going to hurt me!” he yells at him, because he _knows_ that, he is _certain_—

“She was going to either kill you or take you to the Mothership,” Flynn counters, irritation breaking through his mask of calm.

“She wasn’t going to hurt me!” Wyatt only repeats, louder, feeling a lot like when he’d get in a screaming match with his dad, knowing that there wasn’t much else that he could do besides yell and try to give as good as he got. He’s just as helpless now, just as scared and angry at the same time, and he is no longer fucking used to it.

“You _don’t_ know that,” Flynn counters, his voice raising. “And I wasn’t going to take the risk!”

“Why _not_, you don’t even _like_ me!”

Flynn blinks at him for a moment, then he snorts. “Yeah, you are right. And this is reminding me _exactly_ of why.” He throws his hands up, shaking his head as he moves past everyone and walks away without another word.

Wyatt feels the urge to follow, but Agent Christopher grabs his arm, her solid hold keeping him in place and the look on her face making him swallow whatever it is that he was about to yell. Lucy gives him a quick look that Wyatt can’t for the life of him register right now, then she takes off after Flynn.

Wyatt swallows heavily, feeling exhaustion settle in the exact moment he realizes that he doesn’t have a decent excuse to be yelling anymore.

“Come on, let’s sit down,” Rufus, god bless him, says, appearing by his side with firm hands settling on his shoulders. They don’t happen to have chairs lying around, but Wyatt doesn’t waste a minute before crashing to the ground, Rufus pressed against him. Agent Christopher joins a moment later, drawing an heavy sigh before settling on Wyatt’s left, hesitating a few seconds before landing one hand on his knee.

When she begins to rhythmically move her thumb and Rufus wordlessly grabs his hand, Wyatt just barely, god knows how, manages not to burst out crying. 

Wyatt doesn’t apologize.

After he has been assured that Jessica is going to be fine, after he has seen with his own two eyes that she is still breathing and he has felt her warm hand in between his, he eventually gets up from his chair, because he is still wearing his bloody clothes and Jiya threatened to hit him with a baseball bat and carry him out if he doesn’t at least stretch his legs for a couple of minutes, and, well—Flynn’s room is close enough to the bathroom.

He knocks twice, before he can trip on his pride and find himself on the other side of the bunker, but the door is already ajar so he quietly pushes it half-open, in case Flynn has decided to go to sleep.

What he finds is _Lucy_ asleep on the bed, and Flynn holed up on a chair with a book. Definitely not unpacking that right now.

As soon as Flynn lays eyes on Wyatt his eyebrows shoot up, and he’s quick to jump on his feet, walking up to him fast enough that Wyatt takes an instinctive step back. Flynn closes the door behind him, before greeting him with a sharp: “What?”

Which, fair.

“Jessica should be fine,” Wyatt blurts out, shifting uncomfortably.

Flynn takes a breath, nodding once. “Good.”

Wyatt swallows, opening his mouth slightly to say something else but not really knowing _what_. There probably _is_ an apology owed in there, somewhere, but Flynn _shot_ his wife and there’s a part of him that still wants to punch all of his teeth off for that.

Things were much more comfortable for him when there was no little voice suggesting that, if we are being fair, not all the blame should fall on Flynn’s head.

“I get it,” is what eventually comes out, quick and quiet. “I just wanted to say—that yeah, I get why you did it.”

Flynn sighs, breaking into a small smile that is almost affectionate. “I know you do, Wyatt.” He pauses, giving him a onceover. “You should get out of those,” he comments, pointedly.

“Yeah, yeah, I was—” Wyatt stammers, a little taken aback by the chance of subject. “I was—on my way.”

Flynn raises his eyebrows. “Go, then.”

“Right—right,” Wyatt mutters, absent-mindedly, before squirrelling away, in equal measure rattled and relieved at the out.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates comments, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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